


Family Oddness

by Ebenbild



Series: The Granger Relation [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Mission: Impossible (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Brothers, Family, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-05
Updated: 2017-11-07
Packaged: 2019-01-29 18:53:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12637110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebenbild/pseuds/Ebenbild
Summary: "My little girl is a witch! She will have a stick and not a gun!""It's a wand," Minerva McGonagall corrected stiffly and a bit offended."Doesn't matter," Hermione's father said beaming. "It's not a gun or a knife – that's all that matters!"Hermione's family is anything but normal. Funnily it takes her some time to understand this...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I’m too young to be Rowling so there is sadly no way Harry Potter is mine…
> 
> Placing: Before Hogwarts.

* * *

 

 

 

When Hermione turned six, she learned for the first time that her family… might not be as normal as others.

The reason for that discovery was a simple answer she gave when asked what she was hoping to get for her birthday this year.

“Another sister,” Hermione said.

Her teacher had smiled at her when hearing that answer.

“So your Mummy’s having a baby?” The teacher asked, still smiling.

Hermione just looked at her teacher in confusion.

“No,” she said. “Mummy says she’s too old to have another baby. But I always got a brother and once even a sister for my birthday anyway.”

And when the other children and the teacher looked at her in confusion, Hermione shrugged and explained further.

“They’re all my older siblings,” she said. “Mummy and Daddy are nice enough to give me a new one as a present every year since I’ve been born.”

The other children looked at each other and the teacher frowned.

“Ah…,” the teacher finally said, clearly unsure how to deal with that declaration. “Anything else you’re hoping for?”

It was then, that Hermione got a liking that it might not be totally normal to have a new sibling pop up out of nowhere for your birthday each year…

 

(Hermione’s wish for another sister wasn’t fulfilled, but she guessed that gaining an Aunt for her birthday was the next best thing…)

 

* * *

 

 

When Hermione was about to turn seven, she learned for the first time that her family… might have a different way to deal with things than normal families.

They were in Math’s class and her teacher was teaching them how to substrate numbers.

While the other children were working diligently on their problems, Hermione was doodling in her notebook.

“Hermione!” Her teacher said and when the little girl looked up she was greeted with a disapproving frown.

She blinked and wondered what she had done wrong this time around.

Hermione hated to do something wrong.

She always tried her best – but that didn’t mean that she didn’t make mistakes every now and then.

“Please concentrate on your problems,” the teacher said and Hermione furrowed her eyebrows.

“But you haven’t give us all the variables yet,” Hermione said in confusion. “I can’t start until I know them.”

Her teacher frowned.

“All the variables?” She asked Hermione.

The little girl nodded earnestly.

“Yes,” she said. “You’ve only written down ten variables, but you haven’t told us how to combine them or what you want to achieve with them.”

Her teacher looked in confusion at the blackboard.

 

15-3

14-7

20-6

16-5

12-8

 

“What do you mean with ‘combining them’?” Her teacher asked Hermione confused.

Hermione crooked her head.

“Well,” she said. “I need to know if those numbers are measurements or force or something else. I also need to know what they’ll be used to achieve. If I don’t know the answer to those questions, I can’t even dare to guess how to use those variables.”

Her teacher looked again at the blackboard and then back at her.

“Hermione,” she said slowly. “You don’t have to combine them. You just have to solve them like everybody else.”

Hermione frowned.

She knew that she was currently in the one class that spoke ‘Tony’.

She had learned that speaking ‘Tony’ wasn’t easy. So she couldn’t fathom that the only thing she had to do was to solve the questions on the blackboard. It didn’t sound very… _Tony_.

It was at that point in time that Hermione learned that her family might still be different even if it came to things they talked about regularly and that seemingly had a counterpart in school life...

 

(The consequence of that conclusion was that Hermione finally categorized the things she learned at home and the things she learned at school in different categories altogether.)

 

* * *

 

 

When Hermione was about to turn nine, Hermione was asked what kind of language she would be interested to learn later on. As a consequence, Hermione learned that not every family categorized languages as she did.

“Oh,” she said as an answer. “I already know a few. I know Sciences and Geek and Army and Spy. And of course I know Sherlock.”

Her teacher looked at her oddly at that.

“Sherlock?” She repeated and Hermione shrugged.

“He always tells me that he’s speaking Science as well,” she said. “But I’m pretty sure he’s lying. Tony and he don’t understand each other that well, so Sherlock can’t actually be speaking Science or they would understand each other better than they do. So there’s just one logical conclusion: Sherlock’s definitely speaking Sherlock, you know?”

“Ah… yes,” her teacher said. “Alright, Hermione… Say, have you ever thought about learning French?”

Hermione learned that day that her brother’s individual languages weren’t normal as well. Nevertheless, she never gave up on learning them. She was quite proud of the fact that when she turned eleven, she could speak Science thanks to Tony, Geek thanks to Sherrinford – or Q, as he preferred later on – Spy thanks to her brother James and Aunt Emma, Army and Doctor thanks to her brother John, Ranger and FBI thanks to her cousin Colby and Politics thanks to her brother Mycroft.

Of course, being the curious child that she was, she also learned French from Mycroft and Tony, Arabic from John, Latin and Greek from Sherrinford and ‘How to recognise an idiot who tries to get you as a girlfriend’ from James.

Hermione loved her lessons.

 

(Consequently of learning all those languages from her brothers, she also learned her attitude from Sherlock – something that gave her a bit of trouble until she was confronted with a troll in the bathroom and rescued by two boys.)

 

* * *

 

 

When Hermione turned eleven, it was the first time that she didn’t get a new family member as a birthday present.

Hermione was somewhat sad at that discovery.

Of course, considering that she gained two brothers the summer after and found out that she was a witch on top of it made more than up for it in Hermione’s eyes.

“I guess I could say that one of my birthday presents was a bit late and the other one a bit early,” she mused while watching her new twin brothers who were examine the house and grounds.

“It’s decent,” one of the twins decided.

“Of course it is,” the other twin said. “James would have long since changed anything that would endanger Daddy and our baby sis if it wasn’t, you know?”

“Well, I guess you’re right about that,” the brother said while looking around. “I’ll still add some cameras and other security features to the grounds and the house.”

The twin shrugged and then started to climb the outer wall of the house.

“Do as you wish to,” he said. “I’ll see where I can nest.”

“You want to nest on top of the house, Clint, truly?” the other twin brother asked frowning.

Clint shrugged.

“Best vintage point,” he pointed out. “But if you think my bow isn’t enough we can plant a few traps on the premise. How ‘bout that, Will?”

Will thought that over while Hermione stared first at one twin and then at the other.

“Sounds like a good idea,” Will said finally. “Just to be on the safe side. I’m definitely not going to miss anything this time around!”

Clint sighed but nodded.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll help to set it up. I’ve enough experience killing people that doing something like that shouldn’t be a problem at all.”

Then he turned to Hermione and gestured her to come to him.

She did as she was told.

“Alright, baby bird,” he said to her. “Let’s teach you how to find a good vintage point and how to climb.”

That day, Hermione would have her first lesson in her newest language to learn: Assassin.

Of course, her other brother added to her lessons with ‘Analyst’ as well.

Half a day later, Hermione added British Sign Language for her deaf assassin-brother to her list of languages as well. It just seemed prudent to learn something that would help her to communicate with him, after all.

 

(The other twin, feeling jealous, decided that Hermione having a special language with just one twin wasn’t fair. It ended with him starting to teach her German…)

 

* * *

 

 

Since Hermione could remember, she always wondered what language she would learn to speak just for herself.

“Don’t worry about that, Hermione,” her mother always told her. “You will find your place in time.”

Her father always grimaced at that.

“I still hope she finds her place somewhere less… exiting than my sons,” he always said. “If not for Harry’s drinking habits, I would love to encourage her to follow her sister’s footsteps.”

“Don’t be like that, Brandton,” Hermione’s mother said in amusement. “Everyone of my children found their place. I’m sure that Hermione will find hers in time as well.”

“Still,” her father said. “I’d prefer it if she at least choses something without guns or knives. I’m a bit tired of finding them anywhere I go inside this house.”

Hermione’s mother just raised an eyebrow at her husband.

“It’s not that bad, Brandton,” she admonished him and Hermione’s father stared at her as if she had grown a second head.

“I found a gun glued to the bottom of the toilet yesterday,” he said incredulously. “The bottom of the _toilet_ , Jane! Even you can’t tell me that that’s normal!”

“Oh!” her mother said. “So that’s where Sherlock’s gun has vanished to! I’ll go and call Mycroft so that he can stop looking!”

Her father groaned.

“That’s not what I meant!” He called after his wife, before turning around and looking at Hermione.

“I hope you know that I would never forbid you from doing something you like,” he told her, and when Hermione nodded he continued a bit desperately. “But I would prefer it if you’d find something without guns! Maybe a nice wooden bat, or some knuckle dusters…”

Hermione guessed that that didn’t sound too unreasonable.

“I’ll try, Daddy,” she said.

“And we might help her to find something without those two things,” Clint added and pulled his twin brother inside the house.

Her father raised an eyebrow and Clint shrugged.

“I prefer a bow,” he pointed out. “It’s not as if I didn’t listen to your plea.”

Her father thought that over, but in the end nodded.

“I guess you’re right,” he said slowly and Clint grinned.

“Alright, lil’ sis,” he crowed. “C’mon! We’ll give you your first lesson in how to defend yourself without a knife or a gun!”

And with that he grabbed her with his free hand and dragged her off together with his twin.

When Professor McGonagall came to Hermione’s home three days later, the whole house was a death trap and safer than Fort Knox.

The Professor was instructed where to step and where not by Hermione’s suspicious assassin-brother.

The professor looked like she didn’t know what to make of all this.

In the end, she seemed to write it off as an ‘odd regional muggle custom’ and just went with it.

Minerva McGonagall had seen a lot of odd things already, after all.

It was in the nature of magic that there was often little logic – so something illogically like the house of a dentist spiked with spy-tech wasn’t something that made her bat an eyelid.

The man hugging her after she declared Hermione a witch on the other hand was something else entirely.

“Thank you!” Hermione’s father declared fiercely. “Thank you so much! My little girl is a witch! She will have a stick and not a gun!”

“It’s a wand,” Minerva McGonagall corrected stiffly and a bit offended.

The man let her go.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said beaming. “It’s not a gun or a knife – that’s all that matters!”

That declaration seemed to throw the good teacher even more than the hug.

“You don’t need any kind of proof?” She asked surprised.

Hermione shrugged.

“If you want to fix some of my brother’s arrows to demonstrate magic, feel free to do so,” she said. “It definitely will make him happy.”

McGonagall frowned at her disapprovingly.

“That doesn’t sound as if you need a demonstration to believe me,” she said a bit surprised.

Hermione just shrugged again, not sure what to say.

No, she didn’t need proof.

She knew that the professor wasn’t joking already.

“I don’t need it,” she said. “But feel free to give us some if that’s what’ll make you feel sure that we really _do_ believe you. Like I said: My brother will be happy if you fix some of his arrows.”

Maybe, Hermione figured later on, she wasn’t at all surprised about the fact that she was a witch because she had never known normal.

Believing that you were a witch definitely wasn’t difficult if one of your brothers died regularly just to come back from the dead, the other solved cases that bordered on supernatural, the next was a genius with a god-complex and an A.I. to help him with his illusions, another was the British government and knew about witchcraft and wizardry and two other regularly dealt with evil that went far enough towards ‘magic’ that it nearly counted as such.

No, Hermione definitely didn’t need any proof when it came to magic.

“Hey!” Clint added in that moment. “If she can do magic – maybe she can conjuncture some human like, walking zombies or whatever so that we can test our lawn? I’d love to know how good the traps we planted actually work…”

Let’s just say that McGonagall walked away from the Grangers with a new kind of respect for non-magical people.

Of course, it didn’t help that two days later she was kidnapped by a limo and confronted by the British government who knew everything about her…

 

(Consequently, Hermione and the twins added to their defences with magic after Hermione had gotten her books, her wand and the allowance to do magic at home thanks to her oldest brother…

Seven years later, the traps they hid on the premise were used the first time. The Death Eaters who got trapped into them weren’t a happy bunch – especially not those that survived and were confronted with the true danger of the Granger family: Hermione’s siblings.

After that incident, Voldemort had to find twenty-seven new Death Eaters and rethink his plans about using Hermione’s parents to get to Harry Potter…)

 

Yes, Hermione had an odd family – but she wouldn’t have it any other way…

“Clint! Stop shooting arrows at my boyfriend’s butt whenever he’s outside!”

“Sorry, sis, no can do. I have a promise to keep, after all!”

Yep, she wouldn’t have it any other way!

“If you don’t like the arrows, I’m sure William, James or John could help out with some bullets as well…”

“Sherlock!”

“I could ask Natasha to do it if you’d prefer knives…”

“Clint!”

“Or Ethan if you don’t want it to be family. He’s still owing me for Croatia.”

“Will!”

“Or me. Then you wouldn’t have to worry about your boyfriend ever again…”

“Antony Edward Stark! Don’t you dare -!”

“Oops…”

 

* * *

 

 

_Fin_


	2. Meeting Mycroft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Minerva meets Mycroft

* * *

# Meeting Mycroft

 

* * *

 

Two days after visiting the Grangers, Minerva McGonagall was on the way to Dean Thomas, another muggleborn who was due to Hogwarts this year. She was just a few blocks away from the home of the boy, when there was a ringing from one of the phone boxes not that far from Minerva.

Minerva frowned at the phone box – knowing enough of the muggle-world that this wasn’t usual at all – but then walked on. Just half a block later, the next phone box rung.

This continued, until Minerva had enough and stepped into the phone box to actually answer the phone.

“Yes?” She asked coolly.

“Minerva McGonagall,” a voice on the other side of the line said. The voice was male and unknown to Minerva. “Daughter of Reverend Robert McGonagall, a Scottish Presbyterian and non-magical, and Isobel McGonagall, née Ross, a witch from an old British wizarding family. Former Head Girl, prodigy, Animagus, Transfiguring mistress, Head of House Gryffindor and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts.”

Minerva frowned at the receiver in her hand.

“Who’s there?” She asked frowning.

“Can you see the camera on the other side of the street?” The voice asked instead and Minerva looked automatically into the direction she had been directed at to look.

“Yes,” she said to the person on the other side of the line.

The camera turned away from her.

“And can you see the camera on this side of the building?” The voice asked.

Minerva frowned, but looked at that direction as well.

“Yes,” she finally said, just to see the camera’s eye moving away from her as well.

Suddenly, a car stopped in front of the phone box and the door opened. A woman stepped out of the car and looked at her.

Minerva frowned at the woman.

“Get into the car, Professor,” the voice on the other side of the line said coolly.

For a moment, Minerva considered to apparate away, but then the voice on the other side of the phone spoke up again.

“Don’t consider it, Professor,” the man on the phone said. “If you apparate away, I will ensure that you will be brought to me from Hogwarts.”

Oddly enough, Minerva definitely believed the man on the other side of the line without a question. There was something in the way he said it, that ensured that Minerva couldn’t help but belief him.

So in the end, she stepped out of the phone box and followed the woman into the car.

She didn’t know how long they were in the car, but in the end they stopped at an empty warehouse. For a moment, Minerva hesitated, but then she squared her shoulders and left the car.

_She was a Gryffindor – she would act like one!_

Outside, in the middle of the empty warehouse, a man was waiting for her.

He was leaning on a cane and looked at her with piercing eyes.

“Professor McGonagall,” the man greeted her evenly. “Good evening.”

Minerva frowned at the man.

He was wearing a suit – something that told Minerva that the man in front of her most likely was a muggle.

She frowned.

“Who are you?” She asked concerned.

She wondered how the muggle in front of her had found out about magic – and she also wondered if she had to contact the Ministry of Magic to ensure that the man was obliviated.

The man just looked at her for a moment, before his eyes narrowed at her.

“Please explain to me why you came to one Hermione Granger two days ago,” he said coolly.

Minerva frowned.

“Is there a reason why you’re asking about her?” Minerva asked coolly, suddenly very protective of her future pupil.

The man’s eyes narrowed.

“I don’t think that my reasons truly concern you,” he said coolly. “This has nothing to do with you, Professor.”

Minvera just stared emotionlessly at the man in front of him.

“If you’re asking about one of my future students, then it concerns me,” she said coolly. “Especially when the man asking is not giving me any reason to trust him at all.”

With those words, her hands closed around her still hidden wand in her pocket.

The man in front of her seemed to see the motion, but looked unconcerned about it.

“Let’s just say… that Hermione Granger is one of the reasons why I’m allowed to know about your world, Professor,” the man said coolly. “And now, tell me exactly what you were doing at her home.”

In the end, Minerva McGonagall didn’t know how she ended up actually talking about the day at the Grangers – she always had thought herself as someone steadfast, but something about the all-knowing eyes of the man in front of her and his unbelievable knowledge of details that she hadn’t mentioned, yet, ensured that in the end the other man basically knew everything she had found out about Hermione Granger and her family.

When Minerva finally walked away from the man in the warehouse, she had started to see muggle in an even more different light than the visit at the Granger’s had already left her with.

The last thing the man said to her before she left, showed her that even better than anything before.

“Just that we are clear, Professor,” the man said. “If your world tries to destroy the spirit of Hermione Granger in any way or form, I will come by Hogwarts and ensure that she’s kept safe from you – even if it means to expose your world to mine.”

Minerva frowned.

“That’s nothing you could do!” She said. “We’d –“

“My name,” the man intercepted her. “Is Mycroft Holmes. I’ve got a minor position in the British Government. Believe me, Professor – if I want to, I can.”

Minerva had never heard about one Mycroft Holmes, but the way he introduced himself told her everything she needed to know: Whoever Mycroft Holmes was, his job was definitely a lot more important than his claim of ‘a minor position in the British Government’ indicated – and that meant that Minerva and the wizarding world definitely had to treat carefully when it came to one Hermione Granger… even if it was just to be a bit on the safe side for now until they could be sure that the man truly couldn’t make their lives harder, like he had threatened.

“It seems,” Minerva said to herself while she finally reached the home of Dean Thomas. “That I have to take a closer look at the muggle world again. There seem to have been quite some changes since my youth…”

 

* * *

 

_Fin._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because some wanted to see the meeting of Mycroft and Minerva.


End file.
